Over the River and Through the Woods
by Lexxicon
Summary: To grandmother's house we go.
1. Bah, Humbug!

**_Author's note:_** I have no real excuse for wanting to write this, as it's not really my style. It must be the Christmas spirit or something. And yeah, I'm sure this concept's been written ad nauseum. I'll try to make it interesting.

**_Disclaimer:_** They're on my Christmas Wish List, so maybe in a few weeks….

* * *

She had finally found a reprieve. No current open F.B.I. investigations requiring the expertise of the Jeffersonian's resident forensic anthropologist and her team of "squints".

Brennan leaned forward eagerly to examine the remains of a 17th century male, approximately 67 inches tall, found buried in South America.

Suddenly, she heard "We Wish You A Merry Christmas" being whistled—slightly off-key—by someone behind her.

"Go away, Booth," she said without looking up.

He put on the appearance of feeling affronted, even though her back was still to him. "Is that any way to greet your friend and partner, who has just come to wish you good tidings and cheer?"

This time she turned around and stared him down critically. He resumed his whistling, glancing around the lab.

"What are you doing here, Booth?" she asked.

"Just here to see Cam."

"Her office is down the hall. Do you need me to show you the way?" she asked pointedly, her gloved fingertips literally twitching to get back to examining the skeleton that had waited far too long already.

"She's not in her office," he said. "So what have you got there?"

"Bones," she answered obviously.

Booth rolled his eyes and prodded, "Of…?"

"A South American male, aged 20 to 25 at the time of death, which was the 1600s."

Booth feigned interest. "Cause of death?"

"Unknown. Which is why, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my examination."

"Sure, go ahead," he said dismissively. He again resumed his tune.

"Could you please not whistle while I work?" she asked.

He grinned and started humming a few measures of "Whistle While You Work," before abandoning it because she would likely not get the joke.

"What happened to that little bit of Christmas spirit you had last year?" he asked.

"Bah, humbug," she muttered.

He rolled his eyes and sat down in the nearest chair.

She fell back into her zen mode of shutting out everything but the skeleton lying on the table before her.

_Tap tap tap…tap tap tap…tap _tap_ tap…_

She glared up at Booth menacingly.

_Tap-tap._

"Could you please not tap out 'Jingle Bells,' either?"

"Sorry," he said, not sounding very sincere, but putting his hands in his pockets nonetheless.

Suddenly, he spotted Cam and as quickly as he had appeared, he left. Brennan barely noticed.

Five minutes later, he was back. He sat down heavily and stared absently at Brennan, who was still studying the skeleton.

He began humming "Blue Christmas."

Brennan crinkled her forehead and looked up at Booth curiously. It took him a moment to realize she was staring, and he stopped humming and muttered a quick, "Sorry."

"What happened?" she asked.

Booth opened his mouth to tell her, then cringed at the thought and shook his head dismissively.

She stared insistently. Finally, his shoulders slumped and he told her.

"I have this thing this weekend, you know, for Christmas. Anyway, it's with a bunch of my family at my Nonna's house, and every time I get together with them, it's the same questions." He imitated various people. "'Seeley, why aren't you married?' 'When are you going to settle down with someone?' 'What kind of example are you leading for Parker?'" He took a breath. "Cam was gonna come with to offer, you know…moral support."

"Was?"

"Yeah. Was," he confirmed defeatedly.

"Oh," was her only reply. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, Brennan looking as though she was ready to get back to the bones.

Booth could see her struggling to keep her attention on him, and he felt a small surge of gratitude. "You can go back to your bones now. Thanks for listening," he said.

She offered a small smile and turned eagerly back towards her work. He stood to leave, but paused as he went past her, considering something.

She looked up at him inquisitively and as he met her gaze he laughed and shook his head. He reached out a hand and gave her shoulder an affectionate squeeze, saying, "Merry Christmas, Temperance."

She returned his smile and replied with a murmured, "Merry Christmas, Booth."

He continued towards the stairs leading out of the lab. He stopped once more on the threshold of the secured area, debating with himself. Before he could make a conscious decision, however, he turned around and asked, "So what are your plans for this weekend?"

She whipped her head around at the question and stared mutely at Booth. "W—I was…I mean…" Having lost the ability to string together a complete sentence, she pointed lamely at the bones of her 17th century South American.

"Well, I don't think he's going anywhere," Booth smirked.

"But I have time now," she argued. "This is what I do in my free time."

"Indulge me," Booth pleaded. "Just this once, spend Christmas like a normal person."

"What if Russ wants to get together or something?" she reasoned.

"You told me you spent time with him last weekend because he's going to California with some of his buddies for Christmas," Booth challenged.

Her shoulders slumped.

"Look, Bones, if you don't want to go, you don't have to," he said, feeling slightly guilty for trying to guilt her.

"No, I'll go," she said. "I mean, like you said, these remains aren't scheduled to be relocated."

"No, Bones, I said the guy's not going anywhere. It was a joke. What you just said? Total geek."

"Do you want me to accompany you or not?"

He held up his hands in surrender. "Absolutely."

"Okay, then," she replied, crossing her arms.

"Alright."

"Good."

"I'll call you," he said, moving once more to the exit.

She merely waved and turned back to the skeleton.

Booth whistled "Let It Snow" all the way out of the building.

**_To be continued..._**

But only if you want me to.


	2. Making a List, Checking it Twice

**_Author's note:_** I'm on three different medications for walking pneumonia right now. So if there are any typos, grammatical errors, or out of character moments…it's the drugs.

**_Disclaimer:_** Psh…only in my drug-induced hallucinations do I even have a chance of _meeting_ these people, much less owning the rights to them.

* * *

"Bones, c'mon! What are you doing, making a list and checking it twice? We've gotta get out of here like, yesterday! Traffic is gonna be terrible!" Booth called out. 

"I know, Booth!" she answered, frustration evident in her voice. "But I got so caught up in examining the body at the lab, that I lost track of time." She shoved a sweater in her duffle and looked around the room before zipping it shut.

She walked into the living room and was greeted by the sight of her partner lying sideways on her couch, his legs dangling over the armrest, looking more like an overgrown child than usual.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his gaze on the bag in her hand.

"Yeah, just as soon as I get my coat on," she answered, setting the duffle on the floor and picking up the jacket draped over a chair. Booth walked up next to her and picked up the bag. Once her coat was on, she lifted the folder sitting on the dining room table, along with her keys.

"What's that?" Booth asked, indicating the folder.

"It's information gathered so far from the 17th century South American," she answered, moving towards the door.

"Not this weekend," he said, taking the file from her and setting it back on the table. "Could you just, for once, not work?"

"Booth, I like my work," she argued, reaching once more for the folder.

He pushed the folder further back and put himself between her and the table. Her face was inches from his and he said in a low voice, "Humor me."

She stared him down, her jaw set. Finally, after a moment more of silent challenging, she rolled her eyes and said, "Okay. Just this once."

"Excellent!" he said, pushing her towards the door.

Twenty minutes into the car ride, he was wishing he had let her take the folder.

"There's no place in the Bible that says there were three wise men. It merely says that the wise men brought three gifts."

"So what? It's a minor quibble," Booth shrugged.

"Well, what about what they were allegedly following? Astronomers have studied this extensively, and based on comprehensive research of star patterns, they believe it to have been a comet, _not_ a star."

"How does that debunk the miracle of Christ's birth?"

"I'm just saying, that these so-called 'minor' inconsistencies can all add up. Did you know that the Hebrew word describing Mary doesn't mean virgin, but a young woman of marriageable age?"

He glanced over at her scowlingly.

She raised her eyebrows. "It's true. The Catholic church decided that the only way to make Jesus' birth perfect was to make him born of a virgin." Brennan seemed to have fallen into her stride. "The so-called 'Immaculate Conception' refers to Mary being chosen at _her_ birth to bear the son of God. _Not _Jesus being magically planted in her womb by the 'holy spirit'."

"So you believe that she was chosen to bear the son of God?" Booth said, glancing over at her.

"No, I'm just saying that a closer reading of the original text will show you how many details were manufactured by the founders and officials of Christianity as we know it."

"Bones, faith is about ideas, not details," Booth stated evenly and with finality. She recognized his tone.

"I apologize for criticizing your beliefs," she answered flatly.

He gripped the steering wheel and forced himself to quit while he was behind. He took a deep breath before saying calmly, "Just promise me that you're not gonna say things like that to my _very devout_ Catholic grandmother, okay? She's not likely to be as tolerant of you as I am."

Brennan considered him carefully, in a way that made him feel uncomfortably like a set of remains on her examination table. "Deal," she said before turning her attention to the passing cars on the highway.

Two hours later, Booth was turning the car into a muddy path bordered by trees on both sides. He followed the driveway to a large, colonial three-story house, complete with a full front porch with a two-person swing dangling from the overhang.

It looked like a picture on the front of a Hallmark card.

Brennan scrunched her nose up at the sentimentality, but couldn't help being impressed by the beauty. A woman came out of the house as they were getting out of the car.

"Seeley!" she called out, running down the steps and towards the car. She ran into his outstretched arms, and he picked her up in a bear hug.

"Oh, Nonna, I missed you," he said into her hair.

She pulled herself from his embrace and slapped his arm. "Well, that's your own fault! You should visit more often!"

Brennan watched this exchange with interest. Booth glanced over and recognized her fascinated anthropologist look and quickly said, "Nonna, this is my friend, Dr. Temperance Brennan. Bones, this is my grandmother, Zola Booth."

"Bones?" his grandmother asked, looking at him disapprovingly.

He looked down at his feet self-consciously.

"Welcome, Temperance. You can call me Nonna," his grandmother said affectionately, pulling Brennan into a hug. Brennan returned the gesture, a confused look on her face.

Nonna pulled away and said, "Let's get you two inside and settled. It's freezing out here."

She turned back towards the house, and the partners grabbed their bags from the trunk and followed.

Brennan hadn't noticed the cold.

**_To be continued…_**

I apologize for the delay and the short chapter, but I'm feeling much better, so the story should get written faster now.


End file.
